


Grief and Joy

by Kaerith



Series: Lovely Leskel [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathtub Sex, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: Eskel and Letho continue their courtship during the events of the battle at Kaer Morhen.(Allusions to a canonical character death)
Relationships: Eskel/Letho z Gulety | Letho of Gulet
Series: Lovely Leskel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689823
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Grief and Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Direct sequel to "Lovely" but posted as a separate fic because of mature scenes.

Out in the wilderness outside of Kaer Morhen, Eskel and Letho kissed and teased and used their hands to bring one other off. 

By the time they return to the castle, Eskel knows he'll have to concentrate to hide the giddy infatuation he now has with Letho. 

Only Vesemir makes a comment about how disheveled Eskel looks: "How many nekkers were out there to make you look like that, son?" 

Letho replied, "There was big one that took him awhile to take care of," and Eskel has to bend over and pretend to adjust the cuff of his boot to keep himself from laughing. 

He goes to the kitchen and begins to pump out water to fill buckets. Letho silently follows him and wordlessly takes the pails as they're filled. Eskel silently gestures to where his chamber is, and Letho ferries the water to the tub and brings out the empty pails. 

When he nods, Eskel grabs his hand and pulls him to his room, hits the bath with an Igni, and takes his time removing the other Witcher's clothes. 

Just the size of his muscles makes Eskel hard. Being allowed to touch every inch of skin and scar makes him lean against Letho as knees start feeling weak. 

"I'd be very disappointed if you fainted," Letho rumbles quietly. 

"There's a fair chance of it," Eskel admits. "I fear all my blood is pooling in a single place." 

Letho leers and drops a hand to rub Eskel's groin. He then kneels down to pull of the Wolf's boots. Eskel rests his hands on his back and admires that impossibly broad, hard body. 

Once Eskel's undressed, Letho sweeps him up and carries him all of four steps to the tub. Eskel would have laughed, but his chest feels tight and his heart too big to breathe properly. 

No one has ever treated him like this, Eskel marvels, as Letho seats himself in the hot water and nestles the dark-haired man against him. Letho's huge hands caress him so gently. Everyone else that he can remember being touched by never touched him in a way that made Eskel feel that he mattered so much. 

He explores the bits of the bald man that he can; the thick arms wrapped around him, the legs on either side of him. He can feel Letho's chest expand against his back, and tucks his head against the man's shoulder and pushes against him. He takes one of his lover's hands and guides it underneath him. 

"You want me here?" Letho asks, gruff but hoarse, like he can't believe it. 

"Fingers, at least," Eskel begs. "I've never done this, but this is what men do together." 

Letho makes a rumbling sound that's all pleasure. "I only care about what you want." The prickle of his stubble rubs against Eskel's neck as the man kisses and gives gentle nips with his teeth while he uses a single fingertip to stroke Eskel's taint and hole. He holds Eskel's weight with a single hand under one of his thighs. Eskel pushes back against him feeling needy and shameless. 

He's lived a long life and has never really wanted this before. It's strange and wonderful how much the idea of taking Letho's cock inside of him excites him. 

The Viper bites down harder on the cords of Eskel's neck as his finger goes in to the first knuckle. Eskel gasps and squirms. His cock throbs, feeling hotter than the water it's submerged in when Eskel grasps himself. "Lovely Wolf," Letho says, and Eskel can feel his smile on the skin of his shoulder. Letho's dick has been hard against him since they got in the water, and Eskel presses back against it. It's huge, just like the Witcher himself. 

"I have some oil we can use," Eskel says, and starts to pull away to get up. Letho easily holds him down. 

"Not letting you escape now," he rasps out. He slides down and resettles Eskel on his hard abs, Eskel's thighs parting to either side of his thick dick. It sticks up just a bit next to Eskel's, and his sac is cradled in whatever space it can find between their bodies. Eskel puts his hands around both of them. Letho pushes his thighs together and thrusts his cock up. Eskel works the head of Letho's erection with one hand, and his own shaft with the other. Letho feels up Eskel's chest as he fucks his thighs; Eskel's nipples don't do much for him, but the bald man seems to enjoy just touching his body. 

The Wolf rides the Viper's thrusts, their breathing breaking up as they work for orgasm. Letho comes first, and his lips clamp down on Eskel's shoulder to muffle a sound of satisfaction. 

Eskel keeps working through his partner's climax, and Letho encourages him. "Come for me, beautiful." Eskel's completion whites out his vision and he feels himself whine as he clenches his jaw. He could swear that he's never come so hard in his life. 

He's utterly surprised that his face is wet when he comes back to himself. He rinses his hand off before wiping his face. "I've never-" he says, his voice faltering in confusion. 

Letho runs a hand over his hair and tips his head back so he can run his lips over Eskel's scar. "Well, I guess I'm just special." 

Letho _is_ , Eskel admits to himself, unafraid and unsurprised. He lets go of all the tension in his body and drapes all of his weight onto the larger man. "Definitely." 

* * *

Later, he watches Letho go into the forest with Geralt and Lambert. It's strange how he feels like his heart goes with him. 

* * *

The battle ends, and everyone stands outside in the night blasted with the heat of a ferocious pyre. Eskel is numb, unable to navigate the edges of the impossibly huge gap that's been torn out of his life. Someone important has been taken, and so much of what made Kaer Morhen home has been ripped away. 

He feels like a wraith. Just fragments of who he was mere hours ago. He tells Geralt he needs to leave because the loss is too overwhelming. That single thought rattles around frantic in his head. He wishes he were someplace warm and far from here. 

He and Lambert are the last to linger at the fire. He looks at his brother and can see his grief slowly morphing into fury. Eskel is still cold and frozen when Lambert stalks away. 

He is reminded that he is not alone when heavy footsteps fall carefully behind him. He can smell who it is and his spine bends with a measure of relief. Large hands, so familiar now even after such a short acquaintance, grip him by the biceps and pull him back to be held up by a wall of strength. 

Eskel's view of the flames melts into a blur of reds and blacks as he begins to cry. Vesemir's taunting from years of harsh training echoes, but he mentally pushes it away. There's his anger. 

Braced by Letho, he bends forwards and sobs a few times. The motions remind him of vomiting, and he wishes he could expel the gut-wrenching grief as easily. His companion doesn't say anything, is just _there_ with him, smelling like sweat with no hint of disgust or judgement. 

After pulling his ragged emotional edges together as much as he can, he turns around to embrace Letho. The man holds him and it's like a revelation, that _this_ is what normal folk search for, what keeps them going through living through deprivation and loss. 

Every heartbreak Eskel had suffered before... after each one he had forced himself to continue on the Path empty and longing for death until time dulled the pain. This time he isn't empty because Letho's here. 

* * *

The Witchers of both schools spend the rest of the night in the great hall, drinking. Unlike a number of nights ago, there are no games or teasing. Some reminiscing, and sometimes short laughter at shared memories, but the mood is much more somber. 

Lambert and Geralt pass out first, and Eskel isn't too far away from following their example when Letho gently pulls his head from the table and stands him upright. 

"Y' takin' me t' bed?" Eskel says with a drunken leer. Letho does, but Eskel wakes up alone in the early afternoon. 

Most everyone has left. The last two are Lambert and Keira, who are taking their time with their preparations since she was going to portal them up North. Eskel hugs Lambert goodbye with a yawning sadness and fear that he does his best to shove back. 

Eskel feels the emptiness of the castle and goes outside to make sure Scorpion has been taken care of. He's there, along with a stockier horse that he doesn't recognize. 

"Just us left?" Eskel hears, and he is relieved to hear Letho's voice. He had hoped the other Witcher had hung around, giving him space or maybe just preventing harassment from Lambert. 

"This is Scorpion," Eskel says, showing off the Kaedweni purebred. 

Letho grunts. "You wolves always name your horses after insects?" 

"I believe Roach is named after a fish, but no," Eskel replies, feeling a hint of amusement at being teased. 

"Well, I don't name horses. Too much trouble to keep the same one around." 

"You don't have any loyalty for your mounts?" He asks archly, his tone pointing out the double entendre. Eskel wonders whether it's because he trusts Letho enough to joke about this or if he's still numb from the previous day, because he doesn't fear hearing the answer. 

Letho moves closer and puts his hand on the back of Eskel's neck. "Never got much loyalty from them." His body language seems confident, but his eyes flicker around like he's nervous. 

"I guess you can't depend on horses to be reliable judges of character, then. Maybe you'll have better luck befriending wolves." 

Letho shrugs. "I guess one and a half wolves is a pretty good start, though I seem to be much less lucky with white ones." 

Eskel moves closer. "You may not have won over Geralt, but I'd be happy to join your alliance. Which way will you be heading?" 

Letho shrugs and rubs a hand over his scarred scalp, but his eyes are practically glowing with happiness. "No plans, other than to keep the Temerians and the Nilfgaardians off my ass. Figured I might hang around the mountains here for a while then head east, but I can negotiate." 

Eskel looks over Kaer Morhen's crumbling and battle-scarred defenses and courtyards. "This place could use a lot more work. And I saw how handy you are at both fortifying walls and exterminating pests. I was thinking it might be... too much for me if I was going to stay here alone, but I would be willing to stick around if there was good company." 

"How long do you think we'll have the place to ourselves?" 

"I would say until winter, but... things are different, so it might be much longer." 

Letho's thuggish face was softened immensely by his quiet joy. "Suits me." 

* * *

The days grew shorter but each one was filled with more joy as the two Witchers grew closer. With no one else around for leagues there were no eyes upon them to influence their actions. 

The hard work of making the castle winter-ready was interspersed with moments of loud humor and quiet companionship. Letho could be forging iron scraps into bars to mend the battlements and Eskel would drop a load of firewood into the stacks then press kisses onto his sweaty head. They could be hiding in the brush waiting for deer to approach so they could ambush it for meat, but suddenly catch each other's gaze and become distracted by pressing ardently together in the long grass. Eskel could be preparing herbs for drying when Letho would enter, push him back against the table, and take him apart thoroughly with his mouth. Neither man had ever felt so free to be themselves before. 

The night Letho finally addressed the emptiness Eskel had begged him to fill was a quiet evening after hard work and a soak in a hot bath. Eskel had laughed when Letho had hauled him out of the water and tossed him on their bed, then went breathless when the man held his legs apart so he could mouth at Eskel's balls. When he nudged his face father under the Wolf's body and set his tongue to work, Eskel cried out, "Oh, Letho, what-" before his lover put his tongue where no one ever had before. 

"Do people actually do that?" Eskel asked, his embarrassment eroding with Letho's enthusiastic efforts. 

"I would taste every inch of you," Letho rumbled. He bent Eskel in half, pushing his thighs wide against his chest. "Do you desire me to stop?" 

Eskel shook his head. He had never imagined anyone doing something so unclean. But the sensations Letho was arousing in him as he used his tongue to pry into his hole and slick the hairs around it were new and making lightning bolts of arousal flash through his entire body. His lover used his hands as well, paying attention to Eskel's sac and dick, his thumb smoothing the liquid that rose up at the tip of Eskel's cock. Eskel clutched the pillow under his head and let himself curse and moan with abandon knowing that Letho loved to hear him and that they had no cause to stay quiet. 

Letho had a vial of oil at hand, proving he had planned this, and spent ages preparing his Wolf, refusing him climax several times when Eskel begged and ignoring his pleas, which grew in frequency and vulgarity, to enter him until he felt that Eskel was ready. 

"How would you like it?" Letho asked, pulling away to sit upright and stretch his neck and shoulders. 

Eskel blinked, his mind foggy and distracted. "...I would prefer to see your face." 

Letho's surprise was visible, and Eskel beckoned him to bring his head closer; he understood the man's thoughts. The Viper bent over him and let Eskel cup his face gently and press their lips together. "My scars don't disgust you and yours don't repel me. Neither of us choose to hide from what the world really is." He had had many whores refuse to look at him despite taking his coin and it had never stopped making him ache with alienation. 

"My love," Letho breathed, after their kiss. His usually fierce eyes looked teary and soft. 

"My love," Eskel repeated, gently stroking his face. "I am ready for you, and wanting." 

Letho had prepared him well and his cock slid into him with nothing but pleasure. There was friction and heat, then an electric thrill of ecstasy whenever Letho touched a special spot inside. 

"Oh," was all Eskel could say, as he was overwhelmed. 

The Viper continued his thrusts as he explored his lover's face, running his lips over his features and licking at the beads of perspiration on his brow. He tried to distract himself with his companion's smell and taste instead of immersing his senses into the balmy clench of Eskel's body around his cock. His Wolf took it beautifully, back arching as he sought for the highest point of rapture of their fucking. Eskel didn't reach for himself and kept his hands on Letho's head and back, and the Viper revelled in his trust and submission. 

When he finally took Eskel's dick in his hand, it only took a few strokes for Eskel to come with a wordless cry. Letho increased his speed to follow closely after, not wanting to have to continue with his lover overstimulated. 

They lay in contented silence, Eskel wrapped around Letho and holding him in place on top of him. 

"Good?" Letho asked, pretty confident in the dark-haired man's answer. 

"Very good," Eskel said. The frequency and strength of Eskel's smiles kept amazing Letho the longer they were together. The smaller Witcher had lines of privation and pain etched into his skin, and Letho fancied that the wrinkles and muscle tension were lessening as they shared more time. 

Eskel, too, was learning the shapes of Letho. The giant was more of a master at hiding his emotions than Eskel was and his default demeanor was brutish and severe, but he was learning the tells that Letho grew looser about containing when they were alone: the warmth in his eyes and the posture of his arms and whether he held his hands loose or in fists. 

The Wolf had thought that all of his invisible wounds had been beyond healing, but Letho had a romanticism in his soul that he had been willing to reveal to Eskel from before the two men exchanged a single word. He had a wellspring of hope and the courage to make himself vulnerable to Eskel that Eskel still found unbelievable, and he cherished these hidden facets of his lover.

**Author's Note:**

> I was so happy people liked my first fic with this pairing! I felt I could wring more quiet sappiness from the Wild Hunt game.
> 
> I also randomly came across Witcher gay porn using the game's graphics, so Google "Letho the King Fucker" if you want 3+ minutes of NSFW hardcore animated gay sex. I watched it twice for... inspiration. And giggles.
> 
> Anyway, maybe a prequel Letho POV next? I'll have to do some research first. Then we can learn why Letho chose Eskel, because I never thought about that before because the first fic was a response to a prompt.


End file.
